


Getting Better

by harrisonbored



Series: Alternate Timelines [2]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-14
Updated: 2021-03-14
Packaged: 2021-03-22 00:34:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,427
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30030321
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/harrisonbored/pseuds/harrisonbored
Summary: After a nightmare triggers a deep fear of the First Order, Finn finds comfort from an unlikely source.
Relationships: Finn & Han Solo, Poe Dameron/Finn
Series: Alternate Timelines [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2209140
Comments: 4
Kudos: 13





	Getting Better

**Author's Note:**

> hmmm... time to project my religious trauma onto finn i guess (this is absolutely not a 1-1 allegory or anything just some light projection of my anxieties)
> 
> putting this in my sequel rewrites universe so i dont have to come up with a new explanation to how han is still alive. read the first part for the full story, but tldr; kylo intentionally kept han alive to use him as bait, and finn, poe, and rose busted him out.

It was dark in the barracks when FN-2187 crawled out of his bunk. He tiptoed quietly past rows of sleeping stormtroopers and towards the refresher.

There was a window, just big enough to crawl through, right above the sink. He climbed onto the counter, wedged the window open, and squeezed his way out. He crammed a rock into the window to keep it from shutting on him and stood up.

The night air was cool, a soft breeze ruffling the trees around him. An ocean churned a few hundred yards away. He headed towards the shoreline, stopping at the tall fence that separated the compound from the sea. 

“Hey, wait up!” someone called in a hushed voice. FN-2187 spun around, one of his fellow troopers running behind him. 

“Hells, Niner, you scared me!” he hissed. 

She smiled at him, yanking her hair from a loose bun. “Sorry, sorry.”

“It’s fine.” He sat down and patted the spot next to him. Niner followed his lead. 

“Hey, Eight-Seven?” she whispered after a few moments, her voice nearly carried away by the wind. 

“Yeah?”

“What do you think it’ll be like, when the Order wins?”

“Well, you know what they say. There’ll finally be peace.”

“What do you think will happen to us, though,” she emphasized, gesturing between the two of them. “To the troopers?”

“They promise we’ll be rewarded. All I want is my own bedroom, though,” Eight-Seven laughed. 

“I hope we’ll get more than that!” Niner exclaimed. “I think they’ll take care of us for the rest of our lives. Or, at least I hope so.”

“I hope so, too,” Eight-Seven replied. 

They fell quiet after that, listening to the sound of the waves in the distance. 

“Come on, let’s get back before somebody notices we’re gone,” Niner said finally, rising to her feet. Eight-Seven reluctantly followed. 

They walked back towards the barracks and slipped back through the cracked window. They came back into the bunk-room at separate times, to avoid raising suspicion. 

“You first,” Niner mouthed. He slipped back in, climbing into bed and shutting his eyes. 

He didn’t fall asleep, though, listening for the sound of Niner coming in. He waited. 

And waited. 

And waited. 

It was likely close on an hour before he heard footsteps. Eight-Seven cracked open an eye, just to make sure it was her. 

Niner slipped back into the room, her footsteps quick but uneven.

Something had happened. 

Eight-Seven never got a chance to find out what had happened. She was gone the next morning well before their call at dawn. 

She was only fourteen. 

That was his first sign that the First Order would never deliver on their promises. 

Despite that, the brainwashing grew more and more intense. The teachings moved away from promises of a glorious future, and more towards the evils of the Republic and the Resistance. What horrible things would befall the galaxy if they were allowed to continue. 

Planets destroyed. A lack of moral backbone amongst individual cultures. A return to chaos and lawlessness. All this and worse would come to pass without the First Order regaining the control that the once-great Empire had lost. 

Even though he had lost belief in it, it still frightened Eight-Seven. It frightened him even after he became Finn.

Despite them both being him, they felt like distinctly different people. Like his body was inhabited by an alternate universe version of himself that awakened any time his fight or flight was activated. 

Finn’s eyes flew open, his body stiff and icy from the nightmare. Niner had been begging, pleading him, a little girl desperate for the protection of a grown man—

And he had failed her. He had failed because the First Order required he fail.

Never mind the fact that he had also been fourteen when they’d taken her away for the crime of going outside. Never mind that he could never have done anything about it.

Poe was snoring beside him, his arm heavy across his chest.

Fuck, he had to get out of there. 

He gently extracted himself from under Poe’s arm and headed outside. The weather was similar to that night, which made him feel even sicker. He headed for the makeshift hangar, hoping to find somewhere close enough to base that he wouldn’t be in danger from the elements, but far enough away that he wouldn’t be bothered. 

Once he reached the edge of the encampment, he sat down next to a wall, leaning up against it. He looked up to the stars, clearer than they had been in any of the First Order’s compounds, light pollution washing out the night sky. It comforted Finn, the galaxy being so big. It made even the First Order seem small by comparison. 

Finn sat there for a while, trying to compose his thoughts. _You’re safe,_ he repeated, over and over in his mind. _The First Order can hardly touch you here._

The sound of a nearby ship touching down startled him back to reality. He looked over to where the sound came from. The Falcon was back, from wherever Han and Chewbacca had taken it. The ramp lowered and Chewie exited. 

Finn waited for a few moments, waiting for Han to follow. Despite knowing how capable Han typically was at getting himself out of trouble, watching Han nearly die (and then believing he was dead for several days) had left an obvious impression on him.

Feeling just well enough, Finn rose to his feet and called after Chewie. 

“Hey, where’s Han?”

Chewbacca growled back at him, gesturing back up the ramp. Finn nodded in thanks and moved to head back towards his sitting spot—

“Little late, ain’t it?” Han asked, emerging from the Falcon.

“Couldn’t sleep,” Finn replied, fighting the instinct to apologize. Poe had been getting onto him about that, that being a basic human being wasn’t punished outside of the Order. 

“I might have something for that, if you’re interested,” Han said, looking back up the ramp into the ship. 

Finn thought for a few moments, then nodded. It wasn’t like he had anything to lose. 

He followed Han back onto the Falcon, where Han directed him to sit at the holochess table. 

“Be right back,” he said, disappearing into the galley.

Finn felt a little silly in Han’s absence. Everyone had nightmares on base, nobody slept well. They all coped with it just fine. He was being selfish, and selfishness wasn’t beneficial to the group, and it would only drag them down in battle—

Han returned with two tin mugs, two glass bottles, and a small packet. He began popping open the bottles, and Finn caught a whiff of particularly strong Corellian whiskey. 

“Alcohol and milk don’t kark up your stomach, do they?” Han asked before he began pouring. 

“No, not usually,” Finn replied. “I mean, I’m not a big drinker— Lower ranking troopers weren’t permitted to drink in the Order, so I never developed a taste for it.”

“I’ll only put a shot and a half in, then,” Han said, measuring out some milk and then sticking it over a heating element. It quickly began to bubble, so Han removed it and dumped the contents of the package out into the hot milk.

“Cocoa,” Han explained, when Finn gave him a curious look.

“I’ve never had any.”

“I imagine the Order didn’t spare any luxuries for stormtroopers, huh?”

Finn nodded. 

“Yeah, the Empire was the same way.”

“You fought for the Empire?”

“When I was young. I needed a fast ticket off Corellia and it was really my only option.” He measured out the right amount of whiskey and poured it into the cocoa before handing it to Finn.

“Milk don’t agree with me these days, but I used to like this when I could get my hands on it. Rey’s a fan, too.”

He filled his own mug halfway with straight whiskey, sipping on it as he sat down next to Finn. 

“The milk messes with your stomach, but whiskey doesn’t?” Finn asked.

“I’ve developed a high tolerance,” Han said. “Alcohol keeps on months-long space trips, milk don’t.”

Finn shrugged, internally condemning himself for questioning Han. Usually, (lovingly) making fun of Han Solo was a time-honored Resistance pastime, but his brain was very much still forcing him to walk on eggshells. 

“Stop that,” Han said, poking Finn in the shoulder. 

“Stop what?”

“You’re making that face... That stormtrooper face. The one you get when you’re stuck in that headspace.”

Finn took a deep breath and closed his eyes, nodding as he relaxed and took another sip.

“Sorry.”

“Don’t apologize, it ain’t your fault.”

“You were in the Empire,” Finn said slowly, setting his mug down on the table and not making eye contact. “Does... Does it ever get better? The conditioning, the feeling that they’re watching your every move? That they’re in your head?”

“Well, I wasn’t raised in the Empire, so I can’t speak entirely to your experience,” Han began, “but I do think I get it. For a while, I was always afraid of them being on my tail, for being a deserter. Beckett— a guy I worked with once— said the Empire doesn’t send out enforcers when people defect, but that was ‘cause they didn’t need to. They were so pervasive that, even after only being in control for about a decade or so, they seemed like they were everywhere and impossible to escape. Like I’d run into a recruiter who’d run my facial scan and take me in at any moment. They didn’t have to track anyone down when they could usually find them without a problem.

“That inescapable paranoia, that they could come and reclaim you and punish you for daring to go against them... That sound familiar?”

Finn nodded, unable to formulate words. 

Han clapped a comforting hand on his back. “It never really goes away, I ain’t gonna sugarcoat it. It’s been...” He paused to think. “50 years since I was in the infantry? I think? I don’t know exactly how old I am, actually, so my calculations might be off. Anyways, it’s been a long-ass time, and I still get those chills when I walk into a bar that some Empire bastard is gonna find me. But it does get better. You get some distance, you blow up both of their Death Stars, and suddenly they don’t seem so impenetrable and omnipotent anymore.”

“Omnipotent is a big word for you, Solo,” Poe said, causing Finn to jump. Han just laughed. 

“Been takin’ lessons from General Organa,” he said. He gestured to the drinks on the table. “Care for a nightcap?”

“No thank you,” Poe replied. “You okay, buddy? Been looking all over creation for you.”

“Yeah, I’m doing okay,” Finn replied, looking to Han.

“Well, I got first shift in the morning, so I’m heading back to bed, if you’d like to join me,” Poe said. “But don’t rush.”

“Go on, I’ll head back in a minute.” 

Poe nodded and waved goodnight to the two of them before disappearing down the ramp.

“...And you fall in love with a hot boy who takes your mind off things,” Han added once Poe was out of earshot. “And get some good friends who get it, or at least sympathize with it. My daughter literally had Snoke and Kylo Ren in her head at different points, so I think she might also get it to some extent.”

“I am not about to gloss over the hot boy thing. You’re—“

“You’ve never met Lando, huh?” Han laughed. 

“He an ex-boyfriend?”

“Ex-husband, actually,” Han replied. “It was a marriage of convenience to pull off a con, mind you, but it was legally binding in 20 systems, including this one, and I got the divorce papers to prove it.”

“You have an ex-husband?” Finn sputtered. 

“And if it weren’t for him, and later Leia and Luke, I don’t know if I’d be doing as well as I am.” Han paused. “And Chewie. I’d straight-up be dead without Chewie.”

Finn smiled fondly and took a contemplative sip of his drink. It was nearly gone at this point.

“Look, Finn, I don’t completely understand what you’re going through, but I get it enough to commiserate. So if you ever need someone who gets it enough, you got me. And don’t underestimate Luke, or Dameron, or Rey, or that Tico girl, or even Leia if you can get her for a few minutes. Nobody here is unscathed from that kind of trauma, regardless of if it’s Empire or First Order.”

Finn nodded. 

“You gonna be okay?”

Finn nodded again.

“I’m gonna need a verbal answer, if you can manage.”

“...Yeah, I’m gonna be okay. Thanks.”

“No problem. Now, finish that and get back to bed. It’s past my bedtime.”

Finn finished his drink and headed back towards his and Poe’s room. He paused for a moment at the door, his nightmares more present in the quiet darkness of the walkway. With a deep breath, he opened the door. 

The bedside light was still on, Poe scrolling through a datapad. 

“I thought you said you had to be up tomorrow?” Finn said, walking inside. 

“Thought I’d wait up for just a little, just in case.” He put the pad away. “You okay?”

“Yeah, just bad dreams.”

“‘M sorry.” He held his arms out for him. Finn immediately crawled into them.

“Did you know that Han’s ex-Empire?” Finn asked, getting comfortable, tucking his cheek into the crook of Poe’s neck.

“Yeah, he usually doesn’t like talking about it, though. I think it feels like a whole ‘nother lifetime to him.”

“Hm.” Finn replied. “How much of our conversation did you hear? Earlier?”

“Not too much. I guess you two were talking about that?”

“Yeah. He... He gets it, I think.”

“That’s good. It’s always good to have someone else who gets it.”

“And it’s always good to have someone who’s willing to be there, even if they don’t fully understand,” Finn added, leaning up to kiss Poe’s cheek. “Shut off the light, you need to get some sleep.”

“Yes, sir,” Poe replied jokingly, leaning up to switch off the light. 

As they made themselves comfortable, Finn knew that he wouldn’t be able to easily escape the horrors the First Order had inflicted on him, but he found comfort in Han’s nonchalance towards the Empire. 

_It doesn’t go away, but it gets better._

“G’night,” Poe slurred, already half asleep.

Finn just smiled and kissed Poe’s chin.

Even if it was just temporary, it was already getting better.

**Author's Note:**

> it just seems like such a waste to have han and finn both have been in whatever space fascist regime was going on at the time and NOT have them bond over the trauma they went through while there. let my faves interact please!!!!!!
> 
> also hot chocolate with whiskey (fireball in my case) is so good but it made me so fuckin nauseous bc my stomach did NOT agree with the milk/alcohol combo so if you’ve never had it i highly recommend but be warned lmao


End file.
